Plus, it smells funny in there and that cat shits in a box, sometimes.

Now that I think about it, I didn’t even know we had a cat until recently, I just thought it was a door stop or a rumpled rug or a new throw pillow on the couch.

He’s lazy too, evidently.

The “I only eat albacore” No-Rat killing bastard just assumes that if he shit’s in the piles of clothes that he doesn’t have to bury anything in
that dirty old litter-box.

Hide and reek…

“Surprise, Mom!”

One day I’m gonna whip up a batch of teriyaki sauce and eat that damn cat….
…on a paper plate.

The most focused I have ever been is while staring at a balled up piece of paper on the floor next to the trash can after I missed my basketball shot.

I must have stared at that thing for almost 3 minutes.

“Move” my mind said….

The sweat on my forehead was cold, my eyes burned into the ball of trash.

It was an experiment in telekinesis.

Focus, dammit!

I couldn’t get the paper ball to move using my mind, but I moved my wife from “the laundry room” where she was cussing the cat door stop; she picked
up the scrap, looked at me, shook her head then put it in the can.

Success!

She’s a lot bigger than a ball of paper so….

Irrefutable, scientific proof.

Identity thief, please steal my wife.

The Hobbit

She makes weird noises when she sleeps.

She can’t reach anything.

She blames me for the dirty potty.

She says I use too much toilet paper “What the hell, you trying to write a book!?”

Cleanliness is Godliness.

She waddles when she walks; people at Walmart stare and take iPhone pictures.…

She wrecks every vehicle she has ever had; not just wrecked…totaled!

She kills plastic plants and beloved pets.

“Here Kitty kitty….”

She likes Dr. Pepper for the love of all that is holy!!!

She can’t figure out HOW IN THE HELL to keep spaghetti noodles from sticking together!

I’m not even gonna say anything about her pork chops, other than the fact that when they are served….

I become devoutly Jewish.

Looks clean….

Poof! Oi Vay!!!

Get this!

She slipped me a mickey and got me drunk before our wedding and the only words the preacher could make out from me was “Yepths” or “Ithe doothe”

The words were obviously from the South Georgia Gaelic dialect for “Help” and “Kill Me” or if the intonation is used in a harsher inflection it means “Meet me out back with your car running”

Southerners are so illiterate….

Okay, I gotta go and do a little work and look like I’m a company man.

Identity thief, please steal my…

Hell, I think I’ll just keep everything like it is if y’all don’t mind.